Get Off Easy (Noble House, #1) (3 page)

Their mouths met, a tangle of tongues as they kissed. The fire smoldering in Boyce’s gut burst forth, sparking passionate arousal. Asha groaned, her throat opening to take more of him and he slipped impossibly deeper.

Boyce broke the kiss, smiling against Saint’s lips. “I think she likes watching us.”

“I like watching her. And you.” Saint touched her hair, slowly combing his fingers through the golden strands before cradling the back of her head. He followed her movements as Boyce’s dick disappeared inside her mouth. “Though, as much as it pains me to admit, I’m a bit jealous.”

“More than enough of me to share.”

“Indeed there is.” Saint adjusted the stroke rate of the machine before he crouched and brought his face level with Asha. “Doesn’t he taste good? All that raw potent masculinity of his saturating your senses?”

Asha groaned, accepting each driving thrust as Boyce fucked her mouth.

“Too bad your hands are bound. He’s wonderfully receptive to having his testicles fondled while he’s getting head. He gets this wild look in his eyes when you manage to find the perfect sweet spot that keeps him right on the edge of exploding. Someday, I want to make him come just sucking on his balls.”

“If I’d known you were going to write a book while you were down there, I would have worn a cock ring.”

“You still can.” Saint’s eyes flashed as he gazed up the line of Boyce’s body. He flicked out his tongue, licking the skin where the ring would sit.

“Fuck that.” White spots danced in Boyce’s vision as Saint licked from root to tip. “Good goddamn.”

“Boyce may teach you a few new inventive swears we’ll just have to tame out of you tonight, Asha.” Saint dipped lower, wrapping his lips around one testicle. The sight, and feel, of two mouths sucking and worshipping him, pushed at Boyce’s sanity. Made him feel as though their tongues were licking, sucking and teasing every nerve ending he possessed. Boyce barreled headlong toward the abyss, knowing at any second, he would have to curtail his control. But for now, he enjoyed the rocket speed at which he streaked along.

Asha’s jaw tightened, the edge of her teeth sinking into the steel of Boyce’s erection. He jerked out of her mouth seconds before she released a high, keening wail. “She’s blowing.”

Saint glanced over, watching as her back arched off the table, her muscles tight throughout her entire body before looking back up to Boyce. “Well, then, guess you’re all mine for the moment.” With a wickedly sly grin, Saint swallowed Boyce’s cock in one move, his nose brushing through the fine blond hair dotting Boyce’s abdomen. Unlike Asha’s tentative swallows, Saint sucked on Boyce with skilled enthusiasm.

There wasn’t anything cautious about Saint’s movements. There never was. Saint always knew exactly what he wanted, and took it without apology. That brazen attitude was one of the things Boyce’s adored so much about his longtime lover. Time hadn’t eroded their attraction for one another. Their love for one another.

If anything, each passing year only strengthened his feelings for Saint.

“Don’t get too lost, babe.”

In response to the sweet, husky statement, Boyce’s cock flooded with delicious rigidity. The words mainlined straight to the base of his shaft as Saint swallowed him over and over, feeding the need Boyce had to have Saint deep inside him.

Boyce wasn’t lost. Much. He’d spent years perfecting his control, much to both his and Saint’s delight. Though he’d never have the level of utter restraint Saint possessed. Sometimes it seemed as though the man could go for hours and hours. Right now, Boyce was in the lovely pleasurable headspace where everything felt so
damn
good.

A feeling he wasn’t looking to end anytime soon.

“Christ, you’re a fucking temptation on your knees sucking me off.” Saint pumped Boyce’s shaft harder as the sweet essence of Asha’s arousal saturated the charged air. “Forgot how much I like fucking your mouth. Making a sweet sub watch while you take me down your throat. Seeing her get off on the way you look with my cock between your lips. Smelling her arousal. Knowing her pussy is getting all flushed and dark. Wet.”

A shudder wracked through Boyce’s large frame as the desperate hunger for both Saint and Asha started to consume him. Saint wrapped his hands around Boyce’s hips, a shudder rocking through Boyce as Saint shoved Boyce’s cock deep into his throat and paused.

Boyce’s breath started to clog his throat, knowing what was about to come. “Fuck, yes. Take all of me, babe.”

Saint worked his throat muscles around the shaft, milking and stroking the veins pulsing under the surface of Boyce’s skin. White-hot fire streaked a path through Boyce. He hung in that place of unfathomable pleasure, suspended in a haze he never wanted to end.

Perfection.

Asha screamed as she came again.

Sweet, utter perfection.

Mouth still working over Boyce, Saint hit the controls and sped up the machine. Asha groaned, but accepted the change. Saint replaced his mouth with his hand, and Boyce stared down at him, his sight foggy as he tried to tamp down on the release demanding to be freed. Saint was deliberately goading him into giving up his orgasm. Edging him closer and closer to the maelstrom swirling inside him.

They studied one another, Saint holding Boyce’s gaze for long moments while he slowly pumped his hand up and down. Added a twist on each downstroke. Licked his lips in anticipation as he brought his hand up and over the head, looking so damn eager to take another taste. While he swiped his thumb against the tip, Saint’s unguarded perusal of Boyce’s dick only made Boyce stiffer.

Made his deepest desires more pronounced.

Boyce’s love for Saint flourished with each passing second. Boyce cherished these moments during a scene. When they connected on a deeper level. When everything between them became a tangible force Boyce could feel flowing through his veins.

“God, help me.” Boyce could barely breathe as the words tumbled forth.

“There’s no help for the wicked, babe.” Saint stared, his gaze boring a hole through Boyce straight to his heart. As Saint’s breath ghosted over his flesh, Boyce felt need as potent as the highest-grade alcohol streak through his veins. A thousand race cars barreled toward him at unimaginable speed, dragging him further down into the madness that had Saint’s name stamped all over it.

Asha’s whimper pierced the roaring in his ears.

One side of Saint’s mouth quirked up. “Someone’s hungry again.” He fed Boyce’s cock to Asha, watching with rapt interest. Heat arced between the three, lashing out at the way they restrained themselves from the havoc contained within the visceral connection.

“Feels so fucking good...you. Her. Us.”

Saint rose, pressing his lips against Boyce’s shoulder. “Looks damn spectacular too.” He dug his fingers into Boyce’s ass, taking over control of the driving strokes into Asha’s willing mouth.

The man was a fucking god.

“Want you so much. Inside me. While I fuck her.” Boyce was quickly losing the ability to form coherent speech in more than short bursts. The power of the moment had overtaken him. Caught up, he’d relinquished his role in the scene to Saint, allowing his lover to completely wield command over both Boyce and Asha.

Amazing how Saint had easily accepted those reins. Boyce stopped wondering long ago how they managed to flow so effortlessly between the dominant and submissive roles. There were some things in life that were just better off unanswered.

Nothing, no one, slipped Boyce’s control more than Saint.

“You will, baby. And I’ll be inside you soon enough. We’re just getting started here.” Saint dug his fingers into the meat of Boyce’s ass, clenching tight as he took complete control of the scene. “Let me see it, Boyce, first. Let me see you blow down her throat.”

Something flashed on the other side of the room, followed by a concussive shockwave of noise. The strobe of light flickered bright behind Boyce’s eyes. The vibrations slithered up Boyce’s spine, firing a synapse in his brain and triggering a memory.

One he thought he’d buried deep.

The memory burst forth in a chaotic buzz that swept over him and sank him deep. Fast. Clawing at him. Eating away everything that was good and pure. Taking away his choice. His control.

No. No.

Despite his wishes, the memory burrowed deeper and unleashed its wrath.

Noble House vanished.

He was outside. The air around him hot, and dark. Dusty. Fire lit the pitch black sky, and flashes of rocket hits exploded all around him.

Rockets.
Fuck
. Not good.

Boyce knew he needed to move. But he was sweaty and itchy. Tired. So tired. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten a good night’s sleep since he’d come to this godforsaken desert. When he was even able to close his eyes because some nightmare had reached out and punched him in the face. He’d been on this patrol for three years already. Three long years filled with so much death and desolation. And it wasn’t getting any easier.

Every muscle felt like a lead weight.

And lying on the ground felt good. So good.

Too good
.

Which meant it was wrong.

Something was odd. Off.

Why the hell was he staring at the stars?

He’d been upright and mobile a few seconds ago. He’d been patrolling an area that had been swept three days prior. His unit had labeled the area safe and moved on. They’d even gotten the sign off from Sarge before he’d cleared them both to relocate and start all their painstaking work again.

Both.

Wait. Shit.
Both
. He wasn’t as alone as he thought.

Diega.

Where was Diega?

She’d been right there beside him during patrol.

Fuck, no. That still wasn’t right. He hadn’t been on patrol. He’d been asleep. So exhausted, he plummeted into unsettled sleep before his head hit the pillow. That explained his confusion. His disorientation.

Diega had been resting as well. Sleeping at the tent they’d pitched special just for the bomb-sniffing dogs that worked alongside the unit. She’d worked hard. So hard. She’d deserved the break too.

Screams and yells sounded around him as people moved out of the line of fire. He hurt everywhere and nowhere all at once. Like a million bees swarming around him in a toxic cloud, crawling over his skin with their hairy little legs. Their force was destructive, much like the mines he swept for every day.

“Boyce!”

A familiar voice called out to him through the darkness. A guiding light through the agony tearing through his body. Pain clenched his chest. Gripped his throat. Stole his voice. Tightening its hold on him with bony fingers.

No, I won’t let it take me. I
can
do this. I am in control.

Boyce blinked, breathing fast and hard. His heart rate tripped higher with such force, he expected it to seize at any moment. The noise blaring in his head died. Everything came into focus, blurred, then cleared again.

He was back at Noble House. Not in one of the many nameless deserts he’d patrolled.

Saint’s face came into view. “You back?” Concern etched his lover’s face.

Fuck. It happened again.

Boyce couldn’t find the breath or the words to answer. Hot shame flowed through his veins, heating his skin. Not only had he broken again, he’d fractured in public. In front of people he considered his family. Showed them weakness. That he was human after all.

Christ, are the cameras still on?

“Boyce, stay with me.” He squeezed Saint’s hand tighter. A reassuring clench came in return, a relieved gust of breath followed. “We’re gonna get you out of here.”

I’ll be fine
, he wanted to tell Saint. But, in truth, Boyce knew better. This wasn’t the first time he’d been hit so unexpectedly by what had happened when he was overseas. His past. The heartache that had cut him to the quick. The scar over his heart cracking and splitting open again. The resurgence of his time there had been coming less and less as the years drew out, but when they did hit, those terrible memories were overwhelmingly powerful.

This one had brought him to his knees.

Literally.

He swallowed, cleared his throat, and found the tattered scraps of his voice. “Asha?”

“Kochran and a few others will get her cleaned up. They’ll take care of her.”

“Did I hurt anyone?”

Saint pulled him tighter. “Don’t worry about that right now.”

Boyce wasn’t so screwed up in the head that he didn’t notice Saint hadn’t answered his question.
Fuck
. Heat lashed out, anger coursing hot and heavy because the last thing Boyce wanted was to be coddled and protected. Held, yes. He needed the reassuring comfort of a familiar body against his to remind him where he was. But he did not want to be shielded. He needed the truth.

“Did I hurt Asha?” Boyce asked tightly through clenched teeth.

“No,” Saint answered finally. “Just let me take care of you. Worry about the rest later.”

The rest.

Shit. What have I done?

Sagging, Boyce accepted Saint’s support as they stood. He couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on, but he was determined to walk out of there under his own power. He was not about to let this blip get the best of him, or allow it to change his standing with the other members of the club. To show them his flaw.

Wasn’t the first or last time someone had violently lost it inside the armory walls.

This lifestyle lent itself to such psychological stresses.

And right now, Boyce hated every single one of them.